PROMO
By: Imari Jade | Other books by Imari Jade
Categories: Erotic Romance, Historical, Interracial
Word Count: 49,782
Heat Level: SIZZLING
Published By: Siren-Bookstrand, Inc.
PHARAOH
[Siren Allure: Erotic Historical Romance, Interracial]
Newly-crowned Pharaoh Khai I is coerced by his Grand Vizier Azar to find a bride, but Khai has more important things to do, like practicing for his upcoming coronation. Azar and Khai’s mother, Queen Hathor, takes the matter out of his hands and secretly sends out private invitations to the young available princesses in the world to come and dance for the new Pharaoh’s hand in marriage.
Khai learns of the invitations after the dancers have performed for him, and he has to admit that there were some delightful candidates. But he considered none of them as beautiful as Princess Zuri of Nubia, who refused to dance for him. Azar considers the refusal an insult to the kingdom and an embarrassment to the new Pharaoh, so in order to save face, Khai orders Zuri to return to the palace and dance for him at his birthday party.
Headstrong and fiercely independent, Zuri Bassey did not want to dance for Khai, because she refuses to be put on display just to appease a man's ego. Her mother learns of the refusal and insists that Zuri fix what she has broken. Zuri has never disobeyed her mother before, so she returns to Egypt to dance for Khai. How did she know that she would turn on not only Khai, but every man in the room, except the former Vizier who was old enough to be her grandfather?
Azar has loved Princess Zuri since they were kids, but unfortunately Zuri hated his guts. So many years has passed since he’d seen her that he had no idea that she had grown into such a lovely young woman. Had he known, he would not have sent out those invitations. All it took was one steamy look from the beautiful African princess to make him lose his mind. He had to have her in his bed, no matter what the cost. Was one night with her worth breaking a friendship bond he and Khai shared for years?
A Siren Erotic Romance
ISBN: 1-60601-818-3
Price: $4.99
Publication Date : July 2010
Formats : PDF/HTML/LIT/PRC
Publisher : Siren Publishing www.sirenpublishing.com
Publisher's email : publishing.admin@gmail.com
URL to E-book: http://www.bookstrand.com/pharaoh
Monday, August 9, 2010
Promo - Lemon Kisses Anthology
PROMO
From “Lemon Yellow Anthology”
Phaze Books
Lemon Kisses contains four tales of love, lust and passion between beautiful men. Two friends explore their darkest fantasies. A young man becomes a hero and finds true love in the most unexpected way. A wealthy record executive risks everything for a pair of soft lips. And a group of models with an ancient secret join together to realize their power and defeat a deadly enemy.
Includes "Your Fantasy or Mine" by A. Steele, "Amorela Veritath" by Eon de Beaumont, "Bitter Fruit" by Imari Jade, and "The Daemon Within" by B.J. Franklin
Ebook - $5.99
http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Lemon+Kisses/exact_match=exact
Bitter Fruit - Excerpt
By Imari Jade
One
What was that sound? Takai listened. Angelic, soulful and bewitching all wrapped up into one. Looking around he spotted someone standing in the shadows along the wall outside of the restaurant he was about to enter. The song was coming from whoever it was. Takai stopped to listen. It was a lullaby. The words were familiar but he couldn’t put a name to it. The song drove him over. “Excuse me, what is the name of that song you’re singing?”
The person stepped into the light.
Takai gasped. It was a young man and he was beautiful. His facial bones were delicately carved. Long dark lashes swept down across his high cheekbones. Long black hair hung down like shining glass against his ivory complexion.
“Takeda. My mother used to sing it to me as a child.” The expression in his currant-black eyes seemed to plead for friendship, but his velvet-edge voice was strong and endearing.
Something worried Takai’s heart. Perhaps it was simply his uneasiness about the situation. Old fears and uncertainties reared their ugly heads. “Yes, I remember. My mother sang it to me too. Please continue.”
The young man seemed nervous at first. “I really should be getting back to work.” He pointed toward the restaurant’s door. “The boss will have my ass if I’m late from my break.”
“Just one more verse.” Why was it so important that he continue the song? He had hundreds of singers vying for their big break everyday.
“Okay.” He began the song, holding Takai transfixed until the end.
“Have you ever thought about performing professionally?”
“You mean like on stage?” He leaned against the wall again.
Takai nodded, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. He handed the card to the young man who accepted it and read over it quickly.
“Not really.”
“Would you like to?”
“I don’t know. I really need this job. I have rent to pay.”
“I can make you rich.”
The young man pushed away from the wall. He was barely out of puberty…probably twenty or twenty one, tall, but not muscular. “What would I have to do? Nothing filthy I hope.”
“What? No, just sing?”
“Is that all?”
Takai understood. He was so beautiful. Strange men probably hit on him everyday. “I didn’t mean to offend you. All you have to do is sing.”
He looked down at the card. “I’ll have to think about it.” He walked toward the restaurant’s door and Takai followed.
“The young man looked confused and perplexed.” I was on my way to dinner when I heard you.” He held the door open. “Take a couple of days to think it over.”
They stepped inside of the restaurant.
“By the way, what is your name?”
“Kin Watanabe.”
Takai extended his hand for a shake and Kin accepted. It was surprising soft, which meant he didn’t do dishes. “Nice to meet you Kin Watanabe. I hope to hear from you soon.”
****
Kin watched as one of the waiters escorted the man to his seat. He looked down at the card again barely making out the wording under the lowered lighting inside of the restaurant. “Takai Nakagawa, talent scout and music promoter.”
“What do you have there?”
Kin looked up. His boss Mister Satou stood before him inside the kitchen door.
“Nothing.” Kin tucked the card into his pants pocket.
Mr. Satou tossed an apron at Kin. “Then you better get back to work. Plenty guests arriving.”
Mr. Satou was a nice man but a little high-strung. He didn’t pay much but he did allow the waiters to eat in-between shifts and often sent food home with them. Kin walked into the kitchen and washed his hands. Several minutes later he exited the kitchen rolling a cart of plates and serving dishes. He looked around. Takai Nakagawa was gone. Probably got an important call of something, Kin mused as he served a table in his station.
****
From “Lemon Yellow Anthology”
Phaze Books
Lemon Kisses contains four tales of love, lust and passion between beautiful men. Two friends explore their darkest fantasies. A young man becomes a hero and finds true love in the most unexpected way. A wealthy record executive risks everything for a pair of soft lips. And a group of models with an ancient secret join together to realize their power and defeat a deadly enemy.
Includes "Your Fantasy or Mine" by A. Steele, "Amorela Veritath" by Eon de Beaumont, "Bitter Fruit" by Imari Jade, and "The Daemon Within" by B.J. Franklin
Ebook - $5.99
http://www.king-cart.com/Phaze/product=Lemon+Kisses/exact_match=exact
Bitter Fruit - Excerpt
By Imari Jade
One
What was that sound? Takai listened. Angelic, soulful and bewitching all wrapped up into one. Looking around he spotted someone standing in the shadows along the wall outside of the restaurant he was about to enter. The song was coming from whoever it was. Takai stopped to listen. It was a lullaby. The words were familiar but he couldn’t put a name to it. The song drove him over. “Excuse me, what is the name of that song you’re singing?”
The person stepped into the light.
Takai gasped. It was a young man and he was beautiful. His facial bones were delicately carved. Long dark lashes swept down across his high cheekbones. Long black hair hung down like shining glass against his ivory complexion.
“Takeda. My mother used to sing it to me as a child.” The expression in his currant-black eyes seemed to plead for friendship, but his velvet-edge voice was strong and endearing.
Something worried Takai’s heart. Perhaps it was simply his uneasiness about the situation. Old fears and uncertainties reared their ugly heads. “Yes, I remember. My mother sang it to me too. Please continue.”
The young man seemed nervous at first. “I really should be getting back to work.” He pointed toward the restaurant’s door. “The boss will have my ass if I’m late from my break.”
“Just one more verse.” Why was it so important that he continue the song? He had hundreds of singers vying for their big break everyday.
“Okay.” He began the song, holding Takai transfixed until the end.
“Have you ever thought about performing professionally?”
“You mean like on stage?” He leaned against the wall again.
Takai nodded, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. He handed the card to the young man who accepted it and read over it quickly.
“Not really.”
“Would you like to?”
“I don’t know. I really need this job. I have rent to pay.”
“I can make you rich.”
The young man pushed away from the wall. He was barely out of puberty…probably twenty or twenty one, tall, but not muscular. “What would I have to do? Nothing filthy I hope.”
“What? No, just sing?”
“Is that all?”
Takai understood. He was so beautiful. Strange men probably hit on him everyday. “I didn’t mean to offend you. All you have to do is sing.”
He looked down at the card. “I’ll have to think about it.” He walked toward the restaurant’s door and Takai followed.
“The young man looked confused and perplexed.” I was on my way to dinner when I heard you.” He held the door open. “Take a couple of days to think it over.”
They stepped inside of the restaurant.
“By the way, what is your name?”
“Kin Watanabe.”
Takai extended his hand for a shake and Kin accepted. It was surprising soft, which meant he didn’t do dishes. “Nice to meet you Kin Watanabe. I hope to hear from you soon.”
****
Kin watched as one of the waiters escorted the man to his seat. He looked down at the card again barely making out the wording under the lowered lighting inside of the restaurant. “Takai Nakagawa, talent scout and music promoter.”
“What do you have there?”
Kin looked up. His boss Mister Satou stood before him inside the kitchen door.
“Nothing.” Kin tucked the card into his pants pocket.
Mr. Satou tossed an apron at Kin. “Then you better get back to work. Plenty guests arriving.”
Mr. Satou was a nice man but a little high-strung. He didn’t pay much but he did allow the waiters to eat in-between shifts and often sent food home with them. Kin walked into the kitchen and washed his hands. Several minutes later he exited the kitchen rolling a cart of plates and serving dishes. He looked around. Takai Nakagawa was gone. Probably got an important call of something, Kin mused as he served a table in his station.
****
Promo - In Love with a Dark Stranger
In Love With a Dark Stranger
By Imari Jade
Just Released by Midnight Showcase
http://www.midnightshowcase.com/midnight/DarkStranger.htm
Ebook - $6.49
Paperback - $12.65
Excerpt One
Chapter One
“Stop them,” someone shouted in broken English.
Bethany looked up just in time to see four men on horseback headed her way. Thinking quickly, she jumped backwards, upsetting a cartload of perfume, and narrowly escaping a group of children as they scurried out of the way. The first two horses, two magnificent beasts neared. Their riders were masked, making identification impossible. She, on the other hand, stood out like a sore thumb in her dark American made pantsuit, sunglasses, and a straw hat. Had it not been for the fact that she needed appropriate climate-friendly clothes, she wouldn’t be caught dead outside in such an outfit. She got up, apologizing to the vendor, just as the two horses approached. The rider on the first horse looked down on her as they rode by. For one fleeting moment, their eyes locked. He winked and then rode off with the other man, leaving behind a mob of angry shoppers, venders and two very slow police officers who gave up the chase.
“Damn bandits,” one of them said as he dismounted and came to her rescue. “Are you injured?” Their uniforms were a khaki colored tunic, pants, and cap. He lowered his gun and put it back in the belt holster. Like most of the men there, he wore a stylish beard and goatee.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, even though she didn’t know how much English he knew. Her Arabic was horrible.
“We are sorry for your inconvenience.”
His English was passable. “Thank you. Who were those men?”
“Common criminals. We have been chasing them for some time now. They rob the tombs of their treasures and sell them for profit.”
Bethany frowned. “Outrageous. I hope you catch them soon. I came all the way to Egypt to see those treasures they are pilfering.”
“Are you here on vacation?”
“No. I’m an archeologist. I’m here to participate in a dig near the Valley of the Kings.”
He smiled. “Welcome to Cairo. I hope you don’t let this incident spoil your visit.”
“Thank you, and no, it won’t.”
The other officer called to him. He bowed and mounted his horse. “Have a pleasant stay.”
Bethany bowed respectfully. “I will.” The two officers rode off, leaving her a bit perplexed about how to make restitution to the perfume vendor.
“It’s okay,” the woman said to her. “Nothing is broken.”
“Thank you. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
She smiled and waved Bethany on. “A wink from Al-Shar Khan would make me clumsy too.”
“Who is Al-Shar Khan?”
The woman fanned herself with her hand. “Al-Shar Khan is that big strapping fellow that almost ran you over, whose kisses are so passionate that they’ll sweep you off your feet.”
Bethany smirked. The woman sounded like she had firsthand knowledge of the cur, which Bethany doubted since the woman was probably old enough to be her mother. “Thank you,” she said after finally making a purchase. She waved goodbye and walked through the crowded streets of Wekala-Al-Balqa. There were people everywhere hawking their goods in a language completely foreign to her. She had only been in town a couple of days but she had fallen in love with the historical place. Like the United States, Egypt was a mix of cultures…Egyptians, Muslims, Berbers, Bedouins, Nubians, and an American here and there.
Talk about tourist attractions. They were everywhere from the pyramids to the desert. She was only supposed to be there a couple of months and would not get a chance to see it all. But if it was up to her she would never leave. “Kisses that would knock me off my feet,” she repeated as she sat down for a cool drink at a local café. The thought nearly made her swoon. To be kissed senseless by a man was what she always desired, but unfortunately, she never found anyone who cared enough to make her feel special. And Mark was the worse. Funny, it had been five months and the hurt was still deep. This trip to Egypt was meant to put him out of her mind forever. So, she planned to bury herself in her work until he was just a memory. Sudden feeling cool from the fruity orange drink, Bethany rose, grabbed her packages and decided to call an end to her shopping excursion. She had too many packages to walk back to the hotel with, so she did the next best thing…she hailed a taxi.
www.imarijade.com
By Imari Jade
Just Released by Midnight Showcase
http://www.midnightshowcase.com/midnight/DarkStranger.htm
Ebook - $6.49
Paperback - $12.65
Excerpt One
Chapter One
“Stop them,” someone shouted in broken English.
Bethany looked up just in time to see four men on horseback headed her way. Thinking quickly, she jumped backwards, upsetting a cartload of perfume, and narrowly escaping a group of children as they scurried out of the way. The first two horses, two magnificent beasts neared. Their riders were masked, making identification impossible. She, on the other hand, stood out like a sore thumb in her dark American made pantsuit, sunglasses, and a straw hat. Had it not been for the fact that she needed appropriate climate-friendly clothes, she wouldn’t be caught dead outside in such an outfit. She got up, apologizing to the vendor, just as the two horses approached. The rider on the first horse looked down on her as they rode by. For one fleeting moment, their eyes locked. He winked and then rode off with the other man, leaving behind a mob of angry shoppers, venders and two very slow police officers who gave up the chase.
“Damn bandits,” one of them said as he dismounted and came to her rescue. “Are you injured?” Their uniforms were a khaki colored tunic, pants, and cap. He lowered his gun and put it back in the belt holster. Like most of the men there, he wore a stylish beard and goatee.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, even though she didn’t know how much English he knew. Her Arabic was horrible.
“We are sorry for your inconvenience.”
His English was passable. “Thank you. Who were those men?”
“Common criminals. We have been chasing them for some time now. They rob the tombs of their treasures and sell them for profit.”
Bethany frowned. “Outrageous. I hope you catch them soon. I came all the way to Egypt to see those treasures they are pilfering.”
“Are you here on vacation?”
“No. I’m an archeologist. I’m here to participate in a dig near the Valley of the Kings.”
He smiled. “Welcome to Cairo. I hope you don’t let this incident spoil your visit.”
“Thank you, and no, it won’t.”
The other officer called to him. He bowed and mounted his horse. “Have a pleasant stay.”
Bethany bowed respectfully. “I will.” The two officers rode off, leaving her a bit perplexed about how to make restitution to the perfume vendor.
“It’s okay,” the woman said to her. “Nothing is broken.”
“Thank you. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
She smiled and waved Bethany on. “A wink from Al-Shar Khan would make me clumsy too.”
“Who is Al-Shar Khan?”
The woman fanned herself with her hand. “Al-Shar Khan is that big strapping fellow that almost ran you over, whose kisses are so passionate that they’ll sweep you off your feet.”
Bethany smirked. The woman sounded like she had firsthand knowledge of the cur, which Bethany doubted since the woman was probably old enough to be her mother. “Thank you,” she said after finally making a purchase. She waved goodbye and walked through the crowded streets of Wekala-Al-Balqa. There were people everywhere hawking their goods in a language completely foreign to her. She had only been in town a couple of days but she had fallen in love with the historical place. Like the United States, Egypt was a mix of cultures…Egyptians, Muslims, Berbers, Bedouins, Nubians, and an American here and there.
Talk about tourist attractions. They were everywhere from the pyramids to the desert. She was only supposed to be there a couple of months and would not get a chance to see it all. But if it was up to her she would never leave. “Kisses that would knock me off my feet,” she repeated as she sat down for a cool drink at a local café. The thought nearly made her swoon. To be kissed senseless by a man was what she always desired, but unfortunately, she never found anyone who cared enough to make her feel special. And Mark was the worse. Funny, it had been five months and the hurt was still deep. This trip to Egypt was meant to put him out of her mind forever. So, she planned to bury herself in her work until he was just a memory. Sudden feeling cool from the fruity orange drink, Bethany rose, grabbed her packages and decided to call an end to her shopping excursion. She had too many packages to walk back to the hotel with, so she did the next best thing…she hailed a taxi.
www.imarijade.com
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
New Release - In Love with a Dark Stranger
Chapter One
“Stop them,” someone shouted in broken English.
Bethany looked up just in time to see four men on horseback headed her way. Thinking quickly, she jumped backwards, upsetting a cartload of perfume, and narrowly escaping a group of children as they scurried out of the way. The first two horses, two magnificent beasts neared. Their riders were masked, making identification impossible. She, on the other hand, stood out like a sore thumb in her dark American made pantsuit, sunglasses, and a straw hat. Had it not been for the fact that she needed appropriate climate-friendly clothes, she wouldn’t be caught dead outside in such an outfit. She got up, apologizing to the vendor, just as the two horses approached. The rider on the first horse looked down on her as they rode by. For one fleeting moment, their eyes locked. He winked and then rode off with the other man, leaving behind a mob of angry shoppers, venders and two very slow police officers who gave up the chase.
“Damn bandits,” one of them said as he dismounted and came to her rescue. “Are you injured?” Their uniforms were a khaki colored tunic, pants, and cap. He lowered his gun and put it back in the belt holster. Like most of the men there, he wore a stylish beard and goatee.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, even though she didn’t know how much English he knew. Her Arabic was horrible.
“We are sorry for your inconvenience.”
His English was passable. “Thank you. Who were those men?”
“Common criminals. We have been chasing them for some time now. They rob the tombs of their treasures and sell them for profit.”
Bethany frowned. “Outrageous. I hope you catch them soon. I came all the way to Egypt to see those treasures they are pilfering.”
“Are you here on vacation?”
“No. I’m an archeologist. I’m here to participate in a dig near the Valley of the Kings.”
He smiled. “Welcome to Cairo. I hope you don’t let this incident spoil your visit.”
“Thank you, and no, it won’t.”
The other officer called to him. He bowed and mounted his horse. “Have a pleasant stay.”
Bethany bowed respectfully. “I will.” The two officers rode off, leaving her a bit perplexed about how to make restitution to the perfume vendor.
“It’s okay,” the woman said to her. “Nothing is broken.”
“Thank you. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
She smiled and waved Bethany on. “A wink from Al-Shar Khan would make me clumsy too.”
“Who is Al-Shar Khan?”
The woman fanned herself with her hand. “Al-Shar Khan is that big strapping fellow that almost ran you over, whose kisses are so passionate that they’ll sweep you off your feet.”
Bethany smirked. The woman sounded like she had firsthand knowledge of the cur, which Bethany doubted since the woman was probably old enough to be her mother. “Thank you,” she said after finally making a purchase. She waved goodbye and walked through the crowded streets of Wekala-Al-Balqa. There were people everywhere hawking their goods in a language completely foreign to her. She had only been in town a couple of days but she had fallen in love with the historical place. Like the United States, Egypt was a mix of cultures…Egyptians, Muslims, Berbers, Bedouins, Nubians, and an American here and there.
Talk about tourist attractions. They were everywhere from the pyramids to the desert. She was only supposed to be there a couple of months and would not get a chance to see it all. But if it was up to her she would never leave. “Kisses that would knock me off my feet,” she repeated as she sat down for a cool drink at a local café. The thought nearly made her swoon. To be kissed senseless by a man was what she always desired, but unfortunately, she never found anyone who cared enough to make her feel special. And Mark was the worse. Funny, it had been five months and the hurt was still deep. This trip to Egypt was meant to put him out of her mind forever. So, she planned to bury herself in her work until he was just a memory. Sudden feeling cool from the fruity orange drink, Bethany rose, grabbed her packages and decided to call an end to her shopping excursion. She had too many packages to walk back to the hotel with, so she did the next best thing…she hailed a taxi.
* * * *
“Whew, that was close,” Jamaal Wadud Hatem said as he hopped off his horse. “Did we have to go through the bazaar? We could have run someone over.”
Al-Shar Khan dismounted and led his Arabian horse into a stall. “It couldn’t be helped. The police were on our asses like we’re a bunch of criminals.”
“Technically we were in an unauthorized cemetery.” Jamaal stabled his caramel colored horse in a stall next to Al-Shar’s deep chocolate colored stallion.
“We weren’t looting it.” He closed the stall and waited for Jamaal to join him.
“They think we were. In fact, it’s now common knowledge that they are looking for us.”
“Hence the disguises,” Al-Shar said as he opened a door and walked down the stairs that led to a hidden passageway below the ground. He lit a lantern and Jamaal followed him down, securing the door behind them. It was getting harder and harder for them to get to those in need. Like thieves in the night he and Jamaal searched the cemeteries looking for the poor and homeless and provided them with food and necessities of life. When not involved in humanitarian duties, they hunted the tombs for looters. Then there were the times when they had to meet with some unscrupulous characters to get much needed information. Today had been such an occasion. One of their paid informants had knowledge of two looters who were looking to trade some goods with him. This exchange of goods would cost a very high price, should he accept…even though it meant losing ten of his finest Arabian horses.
They came to the end of the tunnel. Al-Shar turned off the lantern and opened the door. Jamaal brought up the rear. They stepped inside a room brilliant with light.
“I better get going,” Jamaal replied with a yawn. “I’m tired and need something cold to drink.”
Al-Shar nodded. “We’ll meet back here at sunset.”
Jamaal left through another door, leaving him alone to think. He removed the keffiyeh from his head and thick black curly hair cascaded down his shoulders. He removed his fake beard and scratched at his own scraggly beard and mustache. “I need a shave and a bath before going to see the folks.” He removed the burnoose from around his shoulders, dropped it in the hamper, and headed toward his bedroom. Once there he removed the wig and took the dark contacts from his eyes.
He removed his tunic and stepped beneath the hot shower spray, turning around to let the drops massage his aching shoulders, back and behind. Make no mistake he loved horses but they weren’t the most comfortable ride in the world. Images of the American woman from the bazaar entered his mind as he rubbed the soap across his chest.
Al closed his eyes, conjuring up those blue eyes and coral-colored lips. He had been with many women since he reached puberty, but never an American. They were taboo, things to be watched and feared. Then why am I suddenly hardening in the nether regions?
He moved his hand down and soaped up his pubic area. His penis pointed upward toward his navel. Damn this overactive libido. Their eyes had only met for a moment but it was enough to spark an interest in him even though he knew that their paths would never cross again. He gripped his phallus in his free palm and slowly began to massage it. Unlike most men he was not ashamed to masturbate. He had discovered girls at an early age, but had been taught to respect them. But that did nothing for that achy feeling he experienced whenever around them. His virginity was taken by one of the women in his godfather’s harem and from there he never looked back. He found comfort and solitude in the arms of one woman after another since then. He sighed. But lately all he felt was emptiness after the act was over. Maybe there was such a thing as too much sex. He pressed his hand to the side of the shower stall and braced himself as he came.
“Ah,” he gasped as his body shuddered and released the rapid flow of semen. Looking down he watched as it swirled in the water and seeped down the drain. “What a waste.”
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